


The Sickness and the Sisters

by SeRose (Sarosia)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Fantasy, Gen, Short Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-12-18 16:26:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11878341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarosia/pseuds/SeRose
Summary: Lira comes to visit her family for one last time and no one gets to leave.





	The Sickness and the Sisters

 

Mirindal heard soft voices outside the cottage and at first, she believed it to be only Imelda, talking either to herself or the chickens down by the coop. That girl was something else, reassuring the chickens that she was not stealing the eggs and was in fact very grateful to the animals for letting her have them. She knew another little girl who was much like that, once, a long long time ago. That hadn't ended well. Mirindal feared for the girl's future for more than one reason.

 

Mirindal stepped outside with a pile of clothes in her arms. She dumped them into a knee-deep basin behind the house and reached for the water bucket that always hung near. The well wasn't far and she could still hear the girl's small voice through the afternoon silence. As she walked to the circular relic older than the house they lived in, one thing became clear to Mirindal. There were two voices speaking in hushed tones, not one. She paused halfway to the weathered stones and turned to look down the hill to the small building her husband had built to house the chickens.

 

The birds were wandering about as they did most days and among them stood two figures. Ismelda was half-turned toward her, talking to a tall figure cloaked all in black with only his back to identify himself. He wore no visible crest on the cloak and Mirindal's heart began to pound within her chest. No crest meant that he was not from the capital and in turn, that meant that there was a good chance he was dangerous. And he was talking to her daughter.

 

The bucket hit the ground and rolled a few steps. By the time it had stopped, Mirindal had the bow and arrow up from behind the wash basin and aimed at the intruder.

 

#_#_#

 

Lira had watched the little girl walk down from the house alone. _So, her mother_ was _letting her out of sight every once in a while_ , she thought. Lira shook her head and stepped free of her hiding place in the trees when the girl was fully engrossed in her chore.

 

"Hello." Lira said and the girl spun around, nearly dropping her basket. Imelda caught and held her almost-scream in and Lira was proud of her. Perhaps there would be hope for her yet.

 

Lira opened the head of her cloak more so that the girl could see her face and asked, "Do you remember me, Love?"

 

Imelda's eyes squinted down into slits as she gave the woman a stare that would have been worshiped by the inquisitors up in Ueorn. The stare lasted long enough that Lira began to get uncomfortable, shifting from foot to foot like a child.

 

Suddenly a smile lit the girl's face up as bright as the Sun and she set her little basket on the soft grass before throwing her tiny arms around Lira's waist. Lira hugged the girl back and placed her finger over her lips, indicating that Imelda should continue keeping quiet.

 

Lira answered the child's smile with her own and said, "So, you do remember me?"

 

Imelda nodded and beamed her excitement at the woman. "Aunt Lir...Lir...Lirindal. Are you here to see me?"

 

Lira nodded and brushed the girl's blond hair, so similar to her own, out of her face. "Of course I am. And your mother, is she inside?"

 

Imelda looked up to the house. "Yeah, but I don't think she's going to be happy to see you."

 

"You let me deal with that, okay?" Lira took the girl's chin in one hand and tilted her head back and forth in the sunlight. "You look pale, have you been eating well?"

 

"Yes, momma makes sure I get my medicine. She says I'm sick, like you are." Imelda said.

 

Lira's right cheek lifted up at that. Medicine...she didn't know what Mirindal was waiting for in holding off telling her. The girl would have to know eventually how to take care of herself...how to manage her condition. Lira's fingertips were free from her bandages and beside Imelda's skin, looked even more without color. Lira pulled her hand back and tightened the wrappings on it.

 

She nodded at the basket. "You collect the eggs yourself, now?"

 

Imelda nodded and picked it up again. Beside it, Lira saw that there was one egg lying on the ground. She retrieved it and held it up to the girl. "Did you drop this one?"

 

"We don't eat those ones because of the swirls on the shell. Momma says that it's a witch's egg, bad for your stomach."

 

Lira shook her head and held it out. "Just because it looks different from the other ones, doesn't mean that it's bad for you. That's something your mother hasn't yet learned."

 

The girl took the egg and inspected it with the same squinty stare that she'd given Lira upon her arrival. Lira's ears picked up the minute click of a bow being set and she raised her arms to show she was unarmed.

 

"I don't care who you are, get away from her!" Mirindal yelled and Lira rotated slowly.

 

"Momma don't, it's--" Imelda yelled back and Mirindal shook her head.

 

"Get in the house, Imelda."

 

"Mirindal, put that thing away before you hurt yourself." Lira said, keeping her voice as clear as possible.

 

"Lirindal, you are not welcome here. You know this. Leave, now." Mirindal said and Lira saw the hand holding the bow begin to shake.

 

"Go on up to the house, Imelda." Lira whispered and the girl left, looking cautiously between mother and aunt.

 

"Now, will you put it down?" Lira asked.

 

Mirindal's right hand loosened and the string shot the arrow forward, straight at Lira.

 

The woman braced for impact, all self-preservation she'd once contained had been dissolved by the disease that now lived inside her. Lira closed her eyes and pushed every last ounce of air out of her lungs.

 

There was a muffled sound as the arrow-head thudded home in the grass and soil two feet to Lira's left. She opened her eyes and looked first at it sticking up from the ground and then to her sister, who'd dropped the bow-arm down to her side.

 

"You never were any good at archery," Lira said, pulling the arrow free and walking up to the house.

 

Mirindal didn't move an inch until Lira was only a couple feet away. Then she only raised her hand. "Don't come any closer."

 

"You're not going to get it by proximity alone. If that were the case, Ismelda would be much farther along and you would already be ill, if not dead. I'm glad you're taking care of her, by the way, I really appreciate you not letting her die out here with me."

 

Mirindal dropped her gaze to the ground. "It's not your sickness that worries me. It's the ideas you carry and what you do with them. You brought this...this _plague_ upon yourself, Lirindal, and I will not have you curse your daughter any further. Is that understood?"

 

It was Lira's turn to bow her head. "Yes, Mirindal. I just had to see her...it's getting worse. There is no amount of blood that will stave off the inevitable and I'm not sure I want to. My heart _hurts_ , Mirindal. The two of you are the only family I have left. I wanted to see you before I..."

 

Mirindal felt a tear in the corner of her eye. A memory came of when they were small and Lirindal had found a tiny kitten alone in the woods near the house. She had kept it hidden for at least a week and somehow, Mirindal could never figure out, she'd kept it alive and growing stronger.

 

And then their mother had found out--she was a hard, brutish woman--and instead of praising her child for valuing life, she killed the kitten as a punishment for Lirindal going into the woods alone.

 

It was after that the coldness began to seep into her sister's eyes. It was gone now, replaced by both fear and resignation to her fate.

 

Mirindal rubbed her free hand over her opposite wrist. "The last time I had to go to the capital--"

 

"That shit-stink town is not a capital. It's a lie--"

 

"I," Mirindal raised her voice louder, "may have heard _rumors_ of a cure. Only street talk, but I have been administering it to Imelda with her medication."

 

"That word again; why don't you just call it what it is? Blood, you're feeding her blood."

 

"And you would be an even better test subject, being so much farther gone. If you were willing."

 

Mirindal walked back to the house and stored the bow back where she'd found it. As she crouched down, she pulled a small knife free from where it was strapped around her ankle. When she stood, Mirindal held the knife out in front of her.

 

"Mirindal?"

 

Mirindal placed the sharp edge of the blade on her left hand and in one quick flash, it was replaced by a long deep line of red. Blood welled up in the gash, dripping in seconds down her flesh to the ground below. Mirindal gave only a fast gush of breath to show that she'd felt anything at all. Lira gave a cry for her.

 

"What do you think you're doing?!" She yelled.

 

"Blood of my blood to heal you. They think the blood of a close relative will help reverse the disease. Imelda's been looking so much healthier since I first tried it."

 

Lira shook her head. "No...I can't."

 

"Please!" Mirindal begged, taking a step closer and Lira backed away from her, keeping the distance between them. "Don't die!"

 

Lira stepped back again and hit a soft patch of ground. Her foot slipped and she fell back onto the ground. Mirindal continued forward and Lira found her strength failing and she couldn't move away. She stepped over her sister's body and crouched down, raising her hand to Lira's face.

 

Weakly, Lira said, "You don't understand..."

 

The rest of her words were drowned out by the hand pressed over her mouth and the blood dripping inside it and down the front of her throat. They stayed like that for a few moments until Lira removed the hand on her own, already feeling the effects of the blood inside her body. She grabbed her cloak and tore off a strip to wrap around Mirindal's hand.

 

"That was so incredibly stupid," Lira said, mouth and chin smeared with red.

 

#_#_#

 

Lira had cleaned off her face and all three now sat inside the house, the last rays of sunlight squeezing through the windows to the West. Imelda was sitting on one of Lira's knees, held in a tight embrace.

 

"There is a marked difference in humans and animals and the bloods affect us differently. And now you've joined our little party, Mirindal. Because of you, all three of us can die together." Lira said.

 

"Aunt Lirindal, I don't want to die." Imelda looked up to her and Lira closed her eyes, rubbing her cheek over the girl's hair.

 

"We're going to take a nap, all right?" Lira said. To Mirindal, "you've spread the oil?"

 

The woman nodded and took her seat next to them on the small bench. With her right hand, she took hold of Lira's and in the other, she picked up a flaming branch from the small stove. Squeezing Lira's hand tight, Mirindal threw it into the center of the room where it set the oil alight.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Older piece I found in my files. It's part of the same world as 'Thane' and some other stories I've played with.


End file.
